Adventures in the Golden Land

Niek and I left Myanmar on January 1^st with fond memories and experiences that without doubt mark as a highlight on our cycling adventure throughout Asia. Yet we both struggled to write this update. Maybe because it is unexpectedly our last.

 

A first hand introduction to Myanmar

Myanmar (Burma) was a country I did not know much about before landing in its capital, Yangon. I’d heard snippets of news about famines, a longstanding violent military regime and the terrible after effects of cyclone Nargis, but aside from headlines, venturing into Myanmar was entering completely new waters. 

 

Much like Bhutan, the doors to foreigners have only been opened recently and some say that Myanmar resembles what Thailand used to be like forty years ago. In Yangon this nostalgic reference hardly seems possible. However, the further away from the capital one travels, the more sleepy the villages and the rarer the sight of tourists become. Cell phones are still a rare sight, many locals use horse or ox drawn carts, bicycles or motorbikes, and internet (if it can be found and works) resembled speeds of 1998 on a good day.

 

Politically Myanmar has a violent history and is boycotted by much of the world for its military leadership and abuse of human rights. This keeps many tourists away. Niek had heard about the country’s stunning beauty, the friendly people and the few tourists that cross its borders and was immediately drawn to venturing there and unboxing our bicycles with more exotic and unpredictable adventures to be had. Another main draw was the relatively good infrastructure and rumors of minimal traffic, which make an ideal combination for bike travel. After our recovery on the beach in Thailand from our Himalayan adventures we were ready to pack our bags, downsize our luggage and start a rather unplanned trip through a country where nobody really seemed to know distances, road conditions or where a road might lead.

We had intended to bike out of the capital of Yangon and in the direction of Bagan, but foreigners are only allowed to stay in government- licensed hotels and these are clustered in the main tourist areas with little in between. For bikers this poses a problem because the distances between hotels can be relatively large. With a lack of a complete list of government licensed hotels or a map with distances, we decided to fly to Bagan and start our loop there in order to avoid extremely large distances on (rumor has it) extremely busy roads. From Bagan distances and hotels could more easily be predicted from whatever information we were able to gather.

Arriving in Bagan was like arriving in a sleepy village, where ancient temples meet tourist restaurants, ox carts, internet shops and sandy streets all within one block. Bagan is a large and ancient temple complex that spans several kilometers. We spent a couple of days biking through the sand roads checking out the various temples and climbing up anything we could to get a good view or sunset on, while indulging in the same Indian restaurant (Aroma-2) for every lunch and dinner. As culinary adventurers we usually branch out and experiment, but the perfect curries, side sauces and endless chapatis drew us back for nearly every meal and made us dream of eating there again after we left Bagan.

Which direction should we go?

After seeing what Bagan had to offer, Niek and I were ready to pack our bike bags and start heading in the direction of Mandalay. We each had two bags mounted to the front wheels and two larger bags on our rear luggage rack. Niek had one extra bag on top as well. This meant that I had to downsize my treasured toiletry bag and Niek had to cut down on his pile of books. Niek’s handicap was pretty much carrying all the heavy items to even out our speeds and thankfully it worked like a charm. We had roughly estimated our first day of cycling to be around a 120 kilometers, but ended up being a 150 kilometers instead. Exhausted and food deprived we arrived and first needed a rest day to venture to Buddha caves, which were more an excuse to recover from our unexpectedly long bike day.

 

Myanmar as a whole is quite flat, which was pleasing to our legs after the Himalayan ups and downs. A couple of days we had to cover extremely large distances to make it to the next hotel and in these instances the flat roads definitely helped. The quality of the roads was generally quite good. Because of my shoulder problem we were forced to stick to tarmac roads, which unfortunately also meant taking the busier roads. The plus is the tarmac, but the downfall were the trucks which on some stretches screetched past us with giant fumes of exhaust, loud horns and not much room. The road to Inle Lake, between Moniwa and Kalaw was the worst. It is a long climb, which means slow speeds, lots of trucks and it was the only stretch where the road quality was awful. After 115 kilometers, 7 ½ hours on the bike in insatiable heat, we were pickled and counted our blessings that the next day was short and mostly downhill.

During our three week stay we hardly met any other distance bikers. On our first day, by total coincidence, we met two Swiss guys who were in the process of passing a Dutch couple (who were in their seventies!) and all six of us stopped and laughed about the coincidence. Myanmar has a reputation for biking, both mountain and tour biking but without much detailed information we often had to guess distances, road quality and what lay ahead. Still it was very manageable and easy to navigate and with lots of laughter the locals always did their best to help us along our way.

Your calf is bigger than my thigh!

The people of Myanmar are probably some of the best memories we took from the country. Their smiles, friendliness, honesty and their good humor could not wipe the smile off of our faces.

Much like in Africa, we found the ‘Coke Stops’ the most rewarding. These were the little villages or huts that we passed through and where we refueled our energy and water storages during our long days. It was at these roadside 

The color on the cheek is commonly used as sun
protection, but also marks as signs of beauty

stops where we got to hang out and laugh with locals over our height, our bikes and our ridiculously high food intake. At one stop an elderly man was thoroughly amused by Niek’s 1meter 95 and was trying to show that Niek’s calf was bigger than his own thigh. Everywhere we went there was always a lot of laughter and smiles, and the incredible helpfulness and friendly atmosphere that hung over our encounters with the people can hardly hint at the violence and suffering that has taken place within Myanmar’s borders.

Your calf is bigger than my thigh!

 Journeys through Buddhism

Starting in Tibet with a short hiatus in Nepal, the countries we ventured through were primarily Buddhist. What was interesting was how Buddhism is deeply intertwined with the culture and everyday life of the people and what was particularly fascinating was how unique each country was in their interpretation and role of Buddhism in their culture.

I remember seeing a billboard in Yangon saying “Welcome to the Golden Land” (hence the title of this blog), and after seeing the country, it is not difficult to see why it is called the “Golden Land.” Everywhere golden temples and stupas rise out of mountains, hills, cities and glint in the sunlight. The most impressive are also decorated with rare diamonds and real gold leaflets and this decorative gold element of Buddhist structures is unique to Myanmar.

 

Another unique aspect of Myanmar were the extremely high number of monks intermingling within society. After talking to some locals we began to understand that most boys, (and often also girls) serve some time in the monastery during their youth to learn the values and traditions of Buddhism. Most do it for a period of time and then return home. In Bhutan on the other hand, only a small population of boys end up in the monastery. Boys from poor families whose families cannot afford the children’s education are sent to be cared for and educated for free by the monasteries. Another reason for boys to spend time in the monastery in Bhutan is if the family has a lot of sons. In this case at least one is meant to serve their faith.

 

The high enrollment rate resulted in mass amounts of mini to grown monks mingling within society in all sorts of activities. In Tibet, where monks are numbered and somewhat of a rare sight outside of a monastery, the activities that we saw them do were restricted to monastic tasks such as chanting, walking a kora, debating etc. Once entering Bhutan, where Buddhism is a dominant and particularly a deep- rooted aspect of society, the monks activities extended into monks participating in tasks as every other person. Our fascination with monks and their activities were maybe drawn from the fact that in western society religion does not intertwine into the visible everyday facets as it does in these countries. Another reason might be that the monks wore beautiful red robes, and also walked with straight backs and an heir of pride through society that demanded attention and respect and thereby drew a lot of attention. In Bhutan we had to smile when we witnessed monks sleeping in the grass, playing pool, collecting wood, driving a car, riding our bikes, or getting VIP escorts through the country in Range Rovers. In Myanmar the monks (and in one city also the nuns) were in such large numbers that it was amazing to see them almost outnumber civilians and thereby their activities became a common sight, but somehow still maintained to endlessly fascinate us.

 

There is no escaping Christmas

Even in a country where only 4% of the population is Christian, Christmas is not to be escaped. Occasionally we pondered whether plastic Christmas trees and tacky decorations where the number one import item into Myanmar along with the cheesiest Christmas CD’s ever to be made.

 

Here we were among the stunningly beautiful people of Myanmar, among palm trees, indescribable golden Buddhist temples and listening to another rendition of ‘Silent night,’ while multicolored Christmas lights, fake snow and statues of Santa Claus and Virgin Mary maintained their fixed gaze on us. Once we got over the music and the fake snow, Christmas in Myanmar was nothing short of spectacular. We spent it at Inle Lake touring to the floating markets and gardens by boat, drinking wine (our first wine since leaving home!) on our lake front patio and strolling by foot into the surrounding hills where we stumbled upon a village where no foreigners had gone before and sipped tea with a group of women whose children probably have never seen a white person before. Among these women was probably the one place where we were not bound to hear Christmas music.

Pure skill

Maybe because of my rowing background my fascination with the fishermen on Inle lake never faltered. I must have over a hundred photos of them because their talent supersedes the coordination and talent of any water borne individuals I’ve ever met. One method of transport in their narrow wooden and shallow boats is by hitting a bamboo stick on the water, pulling it through and repeating this motion over and over again. The other method is to use a wooden paddle, but instead of rowing with their arms they wrap their foot around the paddle and paddle with a hip, foot motion in order to keep their hands free. I have never quite seen body coordination used in such a complex way. The fishermen would be standing on the end of the narrow wooden and shallow boat more tippy than rowing shells, while rowing with one of their feet, balancing with the other and at the same time using their arms in opposite motions to span their net and meanwhile smoking a cigarette and never forgetting to nod with a big smile at a passing boat. Truly amazing.

 

A bitter- sweet end

After Bhutan there were some warning signs that the biking might not take us all the way to Cambodia. My shoulder had been giving me a lot of problems already then and Bhutan was considered to be 100% tarmac and good road conditions. I’m due for a shoulder replacement (courtesy of Canadian healthcare malpractice) after a massive Staph infection followed by septic arthritis from an MRI anthrogram injection (yes, it is possible!). After three surgeries my surgeons said biking is OK, but no mountain biking because of the jarring. As it turns out 100% tarmac, high handle bars and suspension can still resemble mountain biking in these countries and I was often left in pain after long rides. In Myanmar this escalated and considering that I’m attempting to keep my shoulder for another 20 years we were forced to draw an end to our biking adventures. No tears can be shed, because our apartment is still rented until March and there are other ways that we can entertain ourselves until we return to Amsterdam and think about leading lives that may resemble a hint more of a sedentary lifestyle. Until then you can probably find us here: 

Trials and tribulations in the land of the Thunder Dragon

We had very high expectations of Bhutan and were looking forward to going, yet we almost didn’t make it there. We phoned ahead to the airline to let them know that we’d be bringing two bicycles on board and were assured that this would not be a problem at all. But once we walked up to the check-in counter I could already tell from the way the staff looked at our luggage that there would be trouble. And indeed we were told straight away that there was no way our bikes would fit on the plane, which turned out to be not a jet airplane, as promised, but a propeller plane instead. During the discussions and phone calls that followed, I somehow managed to keep a cool head. The end of the story was that we would fly without our bikes, which would be picked up from airport by the Bhutanese travel agent’s representative in Kathmandu, and then be put on the next jet airplane from Kathmandu to Paro, four days later. Leaving our bikes behind in Kathmandu was slightly nerve wrecking, but since all flights to Bhutan were fully booked for the next few days, the alternative was canceling Bhutan altogether. So we took a deep breath, said goodbye to our beloved bikes, and boarded the plane without them.

Bhutan had been on my wish-list ever since I first read about it years ago, not long after it started to emerge from its long, self-imposed isolation. Bhutan had to be one of the highlights of our trip: the last independent Himalayan kingdom, it is also known as The Land of the Thunder Dragon. Some people call it Shangri La, an unspoiled country in a fast modernizing world. And our guidebook boldly declares that it is “a country that you only hoped existed”. It sounded almost too good to be true.

Bhutan actually hasn't been a country for very long. It came into existence about 100 years ago. Back then Bhutan was a British protectorate. At some point, the local administrator of the territory saw an opportunity and decided, with British consent, that Bhutan would become a kingdom. Not surprisingly, he crowned himself the country’s first king. This marked the beginning of a period of stability, but Bhutan lacked many of the institutions that define a country, like a currency, a legal system, schools, and international representation like at seat in the UN and embassies. It may have been precisely the absence of such institutions in Tibet that set the stage for the Chinese take-over there (or its peaceful liberation, depending on who you ask) in 1951, allowing them to argue that they were not invading another country, but just reasserting control over what used to be a Chinese protectorate. Bhutan’s third king may well have feared that Bhutan was next in line for liberation by his well-meaning northern neighbors and promptly started to modernize the country, introducing a national currency, setting up schools, building roads and initiating diplomatic relations, applying for a seat at the UN and, perhaps most importantly in his quest to avoid being liberated by China, cozying up to its big neighbor in the south, India. Other than that, Bhutan remained almost completely isolated from the rest of the world under his rule. Under the fourth king, Bhutan started a very slow process of opening up to the world. The very first western tourists entered the country in the late 70s. Internet and television were introduced in the late 90s. And parliamentary democracy was introduced in 2008, when the current fifth king took over the throne.

There are portraits of the king everywhere, and you also see many pictures of his four predecessors. Sometimes you get the impression that the quantity of a ruler's images and his popularity are inversely related (like in Tibet, where Tibetans’ increased aversion to their liberators seems to have coincided with a sharp increase in the number of Chinese flags in the region, especially on the roofs of Tibetan houses), but I'm pretty sure that the king is genuinely popular in Bhutan. In general, the country is not a bad place to be a high-ranking official. After our flight landed in Paro, a couple of Bhutanese people got off the plane before anybody else and were greeted with a red carpet on the tarmac. We assumed that they had to be part of the royal family, but they turned out to be just high-ranking judges.

As far as I'm aware, Bhutan is the only country in the world with a mandatory national dress code. It was introduced during the early years of the kingdom in order to create some much-needed national identity. For women, it is essentially a long dress. For men, it resembles a bathrobe, which reaches to just above the knee. Therefore, it is complemented by long socks. The design is always the same, but color patterns differ somewhat. By law, everybody has to wear this outfit when working, going to school or attending ceremonies. I had heard about the national dress before and expected that just about everybody would be wearing it. It seems that the majority of people (still) do, but I was also surprised at how many people didn't. It seemed that the further away you got from the capital, Thimpu, the fewer people wore it.

Would you like some more water?

Another distinguishing feature of Bhutan is its use of Gross National Happiness (GNH) instead of good old GDP as a measure of national welfare. Nonetheless, we very quickly found out that, even after almost 30 years of GNH, the profit-motive is still alive & kicking in Bhutan. After a couple of days we found out that our Bhutanese travel agent tried to increase his profit margin by downgrading us to cheaper hotels than the ones we had agreed on when planning the trip. When we told him that we were not very impressed by this kind of behavior he made matters worse by telling us, completely straight-faced, that we should actually be thanking him because these were upgrades. This time I didn’t manage to keep a cool head (nor did I particularly try). At the same time our guide, Chimi, had been going out of his way to buy water for us before we even had a chance to consider doing so ourselves. Being helpful is one thing, but he did this in a way that was completely over the top. He explained to us that tourists were routinely being grossly overcharged in Bhutan when buying bottled water. He repeatedly warned us that we would routinely be charged the equivalent of 1 euro per bottle, while assuring us that the true price was just 50 eurocents. This surprised me for two reasons: first of all, having travelled all over the world, I have never been overcharged for water. Secondly, it seemed to run completely counter to the carefully cultivated image of Bhutan. Wasn't Bhutan all about happiness rather than making money? At the same time, Chimi came across as a very honest and well-meaning guy as well, so we decided not to raise these questions with him and give him the benefit of doubt. It quickly became obvious that this was a surprisingly transparent and silly way to try to make some extra money. The attempt to rip us off was actually so pathetic that it was impossible to be really angry with him. When we confronted him with the fact that we’d been able to get water at 20 eurocents per bottle, Chimi first categorically denied any wrong-doing, then proceeded to sleep on it for a few nights before admitting that he had successfully been tricking tourists in this way for many years and thanking us for our moral guidance in this matter. All of this just goes to show that, indeed, money talks and bullshit walks. Even in Shangri La.

Our first impression of Bhutan, from the airplane window, held no surprises: it looks as clean and organized from the air as it does when you are on the ground. Smoking is banned in Bhutan. Only tourists are allowed to bring a limited amount for personal consumption. In the arrival hall you are warned that failure to declare tobacco products can result in lengthy prison sentences. Nonetheless, some Bhutanese, including our guide, do light up from time to time, just not openly.

Unfortunately, we brought the grey, gloomy weather that had plagued us in Nepal with us to Bhutan. After spending two days in Paro, I proceeded to do the first two biking days of the itinerary – from Paro to Thimpu via the Haa valley - on a rental bicycle. This turned out to be a rather painful experience, because the tip of the saddle kept on slowly moving upwards while biking. This section involved a 3900 meter mountain pass, which we crossed in windy and snowy conditions. Carola had decided to give the low-quality rental bike a miss, and when I arrived down in the Haa valley, shivering and teeth chattering uncontrollably, I wondered if I shouldn’t have done the same. The next day, the weather improved a bit, but the problem that I had with the saddle got steadily worse, so that I was happy to hand in the rental bike once we arrived in the nation’s capital, Thimpu. Compared to Paro, home to the country’s only airstrip and its 3^rd biggest town with about 10 thousand souls, Thimpu is a metropolis with some 200 thousand inhabitants. Yet the place feels decidedly sleepy and is probably one of the few capitals in the world, if not the only one, without a single traffic light. Apparently one was installed a few years ago, but quickly removed after a popular outcry against this untraditional way of regulating traffic.

 

We were relieved that our bikes arrived as planned and in good condition. Once out of Thimpu, heading east over the country’s main road, the road was initially still quite busy but got steadily quieter as the days went by. Biking in Bhutan is a pleasure: the roads are generally pretty quiet and in decent condition. There are some long climbs, the longest that we did was 40 kilometers, but gradients are around 4 to 5%, which is not too steep. You always go either up or down and there are hardly any flat roads. The country is very unspoiled, and there is very little deforestation. It's all very peaceful and pretty, with rolling hills, the Himalayas sometimes visible in the distance and pretty villages. These all in same style – there are very strict architectural guidelines in Bhutan – and prayer flags all over the place as well. Some houses have enormous penises painted next to the main entrance, which is supposed to deter evil spirits from entering. Apparently, the way these look are not subject to government guidelines and, as a result, some of these look pretty creative - see pics further down for some nice examples. Most towns are built around a commanding castle, which nowadays typically houses government offices and/or a monastery.

 

Bhutan is a friendly and peaceful country and you have the place almost to yourself, with only 50 thousand tourists visiting every year. At the same time, the scenery is pretty but not really spectacular: for the most part, the country consists of high hills and low mountains covered in fir trees. If you’re looking for jaw-dropping mountain scenery, you’re definitely better off in Nepal. Also, we quickly realized that we like traveling independently much better than on a pre-set itinerary with a guide (which is mandatory in Bhutan). And the drawback of national dress and building codes is that different parts of the country look a bit similar, just like the landscape. All in all, we thought that Bhutan was quite nice and interesting. But to call it Shangri La? A country that you only hoped existed? Perhaps that’s a bit exaggerated.

Note the sign next to the door

The Bhutanese turn out to get pretty creative when you let them

It's a brave evil spirit that tries to get through that door

After two weeks in Bhutan, we were ready to move on. First to Thailand, to warm up again after almost 2 months in the Himalayas and to spend some time off the bike, and then on to Burma.

Nepal: Adventures in the clouds

After catching up on much needed sleep and ravaging the culinary excellence of Kathmandu, Niek and I were up for our next adventure. First we headed to my host family with whom I lived with for six weeks during my research this past May and June. They welcomed us with flower garlands, incredible meals and rituals that bonded us as family members. This was Niek’s first time meeting them and just like myself he could not believe the luck I had in landing in this good humored and easy going Nepali family in a small village on the edge of the Kathmandu valley. It really was like returning home.

Niek's Nepali moves

Our arrival in the village was synced with Tihar, one of the week long Hindu festivals that run throughout the fall and on the day of our arrival honored Laxmi, the goddess of wealth. For Gyanu and Chiranjibi this meant that they had to perform extra rituals to honor the god, as well as mark Laxmi’s footprints leading to the top room of the house where the shrine for the house god resides. Some customs of the festival resembled Halloween with children coming to sing and dance for money and food at neighboring houses in the evening. Even Niek tried his best at Nepali dancing, which I thankfully captured on camera.

Chiranjibi and Gyanu honoring Laxmi

Throughout the villages giant bamboo swings were set up during the festival. These are fantastic temporary structures that help support the belief that everyone should leave this earth at least once a year. Some children had perfected the art of flying these swings to their maximum height with their small body weight and took full advantage of leaving this earth in a playful manner until other children started tugging with impatience for their turn.

Gyanu lifting off

Sujen, my research assistant and good friend from my research period joined us the following day and we walked up the mountain to visit all the families together. It was fantastic to see how well everyone was doing and for some their living conditions had improved. I had been a bit worried whether a few of the girls had been married off since I was there, but fortunately all of them were still in school and smiling shyly at our little troop of visitors.

After two days of being swooned by Gyanu’s fantastic cooking and Niek and myself practicing our chapatti baking skills, we had one more significant family ceremony before it was time to leave for our trek in Langtang. The last day of the festival is to honor brothers, and through this ceremony Niek and I became bonded to Muna and Bibek, the two children of our host family as siblings. We went through an elaborate ceremony in which Bibek became my bhai (little brother) and Niek became Muna’s dhai (big brother). And so our family grows! Following the ceremony and with full bellies, bags full of snacks and lots of hugs, we departed to Langtang for 10 days of trekking.

The brother- sister ceremoy

Following NickNick

Niek has two nicknames in my family: one is Nikipedia and the other is NickNick, which is inspired by the Dutch car navigation system called TomTom. Before Niek walks out any door he has generally researched the route, the time it takes, the historical facts, the weather reports and any other essential information necessary. Lonely Planet guides are like bibles and are not to be left home without. I rely on his research a 100% and tend to be amazed at his thorough planning and incredible sense of detail on a daily basis. Unlike Niek, I have a tendency to fall out the door, find my way by getting lost, be fascinated by colorful and shiny things and ask any John Doe for directions with the hopes that John Doe knows what he’s talking about. Because of my tendency to neglect research, multiple times a day I ask Niek questions like: where are we going? How far is it? What’s the name of town? What’s the weather like? (even if he can’t check it), and what are the hotels like? Etc. He always answers patiently with as much detail as he can and sometimes reacts with amazement that I often don’t even look at a map. While most other tourists relied on guides, I relied on Niek who spurted out numbers, statistics, travel times and environmental changes within 30 minute intervals.

Finding Tibet in Nepal

Niek had chosen a trek that did not require flying or extensive travel because of our departure date to Bhutan. Flights here are often cancelled because of bad weather and we could not risk such a delay. This planning ended up being incredibly helpful because massive flight cancellations due to fog and bad weather ended up stranding 3500 people in Lukla, the gateway to Everest Base Camp during our trek. Luckily all we had to do was drive 6 hours to Dunche to start the trek and then we literally walked back to Kathamandu over the mountains, only to land a short taxi ride from central Kathmandu.

The Langtang valley is a trek which is not as popular as the Anapurna Circuit or Everest Base Camp but still attracts a good number of trekkers every year. It is close to the Tibetan border and the people living in the area are largely Tamang, which are originally from Tibet but have lived in Nepal for many generations and speak their own Tibeto-Burman language. Buddhism is the predominant religion and prayer flags decorate mountain tops and Buddhist shrines and images of the Dalai Lama decorate homes.

Many small villages adorn the valleys and steep mountainsides and all are only reached through narrow and steep walking paths that have become a trekkers heaven. Tents are not needed because most villages have little guest houses with basic accommodation and excellent food that ranges from Dahl Bat, the traditional Nepali dish of rice, lentil soup and curry, to chowmein and western dishes. In Nepal these treks are called ‘teahouse treks.’ The guesthouses are run by families and for the nights you live there, you join in their family life and often sit with them in their small wood fire kitchen. Considering our passion for good (and lots of) food and lack of passion for our 2x4 meter tent, this is a brilliant way to venture into the outdoors without our bicycles for a change.

Journeys through family networks

Once you stayed in a lodge and got chatting with the owners we were caught up in a family reference network. Before departure we were handed a business card of the lodge and sent to the brother or sisters hotel a few towns further for lunch or sleeping. There we would catch up on family matters and then get sent on to the next relative in another village. After completing the Langtang valley we headed on the Tamang heritage trail which was not as frequented by tourists and there these networks were extremely efficient and even included phone calls and using us as promotion for lodges if we were to pass other trekkers heading in the opposite direction. The hotel owner where we had lunch one day told us at one point “when you keep going you are going to meet two Israelis. Tell them to come here!” Although electricity (if any) was solar and running water was often from a common tap or stream, most places had phones and used them to strengthen their lodge reference system.

Suntali, a 12 year old servant 

Surprising as well in these lodges was also that paying frequently worked on the honor system. Education is still difficult in these regions where the villages are small and it takes days to walk to the nearest road. Therefore many of the families that run the lodges cannot read, write or count. Standardized price lists exist and trekkers are left to calculate their own total, unlike in some of the bigger lodges, where sometimes a hired cook or manager was able to help manage the finances. Families in these remote areas are starting to realize the importance of education and I had many discussions with parents as well as youths about the difficulties they face in achieving education. Public schools are not reputed to offer good education and in these small towns teachers teach as a side job when they have time. Therefore many parents, if they are able, have to send their children to school in Kathmandu or to Dunche. This costs a lot of money and they only see their children a few times a year. Tourists have started to sponsor children to go to school for some families, but when parents don’t show up to pay the school fees themselves, parents struggle that the school does not respect the parents. Therefore many children and especially girls miss out on education and work the land or hotel with the family. In one lodge we stayed we met a young girl, by the name of Suntali (pictured above), who was a 12 year old Tamang servant girl to the lodge. She was hired on to wash dishes and her family was nowhere near because this village consisted of three little self- contained lodges.

Dereramro!

We hired a porter for our joint backpack as most trekkers do. What tourists do in the Himalayas with high-end equipment, these porters do in plastic sandals while carrying at least the luggage of one, if not two or three people. Our porter's name was Munu and was absolutely amazing. He was older than most porters, probably in his late thirties or early forties and has three sons. He was also Tamang and seemed to know someone in almost every village we passed through. Before we started the trek we ensured our mediator to hiring Munu that we would be covering larger distances than the average trekker to which he said “no problem!” (as every Nepali says to almost anything) without asking Munu himself. We often put two ‘normal’ days into one and thereby covering in 10 days a distance that may take other people at least two weeks to complete. Munu, with many “no problem!” (he did not speak much English) pulled through all of it with the help of us feeding him Snickers bars and Coca Cola on the really long days to keep the energy tank at least partially full.

Niek watching the clouds roll in from a nearby peak

Because of his endurance, speed and strength, Niek bounced happily and with endless energy up and down these mountains with more to spare at the end of the day. A couple of times he climbed up extra peaks for shits and giggles while I retreated to drinking tea in front of fires. On one occasion I renamed a mountain to ‘unnecessary mountain’ and a trail to ‘the never ending trail’ as Munu and myself crawled up with many sighs, curses and hopes for an end in sight. Niek, on both occasions stood at the top ready to keep going and with the latest distance and altitude info by the time we arrived. The ‘never ending trail’ was one of our toughest days and had 2400 meters of elevation gain ‘Grouse Grind style.’ The Grouse Grind is a local Vancouver trail up Grouse mountain and has 750 meters of elevation gain over roughly 3 kilometers. It’s essentially one giant staircase through the trees and the ultimate Vancouver fitness test for many. It is a masochistic yet fantastic trail and both Niek and I are fans of timing ourselves whenever we visit Vancouver to see how we compare to last time. As a result, on this trek and because we know how difficult the grouse grind is comparatively, we measured everything here in ‘Grouse grinds’ in terms of distance and altitude gain. On multiple occasions I found myself saying “ok Carola, you have half a grouse grind to do before lunch.” For the ‘never ending trail,’ which we did in the hail, fog and cold, I thankfully did not realize until after that we essentially did the grouse grind three times at a higher elevation. Most people split this day into two for altitude acclimatization (we were already acclimatized) and because of its difficulty. At the end of these difficult days Munu and I would arrive roughly at the same time, sit down, declare a celebratory “finish!” and conclude with a content “Dereramro!” which means “Very good!” in Nepali. Considering his minimal English and his good sense of humor, dereramro became the slogan of our tour and almost anything in the end was ‘very good!’

A quick peak behind the clouds early in the morning

We ended up finishing our trek one day early because of the terrible weather. October and November are supposed to be the best months to visit Nepal because of the clear skies and good weather. Everyone including locals were baffled at the continuously foggy days that marked our journey. Throughout the trek we encountered many travelers multiple times because of the various loops that people can take and when we would run into each other again we would compare notes on the various thicknesses and different shades of fog, how cold we got at night, or the sneak peeks at the glorious peaks that were hiding behind the fog that usually occurred at 6:30 am for about a maximum of 10 minutes. Our last leg of the trip was to go past Gosainkund lake, back to Kathmandu over a 4600 meter pass. Luckily the pass itself was surprisingly clear but the surrounding mountains were hidden behind blankets of clouds. As soon as we started to descend we found ourselves in the mist with snow, hail and rain and I cursed myself for forgetting my rain jacket at one of our lunch stops a few days before. 

Upon our return and one final ‘dereramro!’ we once again descended into Kathmandu ready to plunder buffets, fruit baskets, a taste of meat and sleeping in the warm sun.

Now after recharging the batteries we are ready for our adventures in Bhutan, the last kingdom of the Himalayas. It is time to unpack our bikes again and venture through a country where smoking is illegal, national dress is mandatory for work, TV and internet were only introduced in 1999 and where the main yardstick for the country's well-being is ‘gross national happiness.’